


I Guess This Is Goodbye

by Blueismybusiness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged Up Caracters, Divorce, M/M, brief mention of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 09:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueismybusiness/pseuds/Blueismybusiness
Summary: No one tells you how hard it is.





	I Guess This Is Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling mean.
> 
> Don’t hate me.

No one tells you how hard it is.

Well, that’s not entirely true, they do tell you. It’s just hard to accept when it’s feels so phenomenally amazing in the beginning. When it seems as if you can conquer the world on love alone.

What does caution mean when you’re baring your soul at one in the morning to the person you’re sure was specifically born just for you? A precious gift from the gods, wrapped up and pretty for you alone.

What do the warnings mean when two hearts meld together, beating a singular rhythm, steady and reliable and unyielding? When you’re so blinded by the bubble of perfection you live in that the pessimism of others only glances off the surface to be bounced back to the darkness from which it came?

What do the advice of those who say they’ve been there matter when the sex is so good it feels like you’ve ascended to a higher plane? When you’ve been connected on such a deep, spiritual level; two bodies becoming one in an ecstasy that is beyond mere human need?

The bed shifts and Kei is jostled from his poetic waxing and back to the unfortunate present. He gazes at the gray smoke curling unperturbed from the lit cigarette in his hand and he shifts from his position against the headboard to flick the excess ash into the ashtray on the table beside him.

Shōyō eases off the bed with grace he’s established over the long years. Without looking at Kei, he slides on the pair of jeans that were haphazardly tossed to the floor a little while ago.

“Where will you go?” Shōyō asks, still not looking at him and picking up the shirt that had joined his pants. It’s a green Henley that Kei absently remembers gifting him a few years ago. It’s a bit worn from constant wear and hangs off of the ginger a little, the collar and hem line stretched. It still looks good on him, contrasting prettily against his pale skin and red hair but Kei turns his sight to the wall, feeling little to nothing about it. He hasn’t felt anything in a long time.

Everyone says marriage is hard. Too bad nobody believes the warnings until it’s too late.

Kei shrugs his shoulders even though Shōyō’s back is toward him as he makes his way to the bathroom. He brings the cigarette to his lips and sucks in a lungfull of harsh smoke and attempts a few smoke rings before exhaling the rest in a sigh.

“Does it really matter?” Kei asks just to be difficult. He hears the water running in the bathroom as Shōyō cleans up. A moment later the water turns off and he steps into the threshold and leans on the doorframe, arms crossed, an expression of sadness and concern on his face as he watches the blonde. Kei wants to laugh at the absurdity of it.

“You know you don’t have to do this. I can leave.”

Kei finishes the last of his cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray, perhaps a little more aggressively than he’d intended.

“What makes you think I want to stay here?” Honestly, the thought of remaining in there, in the home they’d built that held so many memories, both good and bad, made him feel sick.

It used to be so easy.

Okay, so seventeen year old Kei would disagree, but compared to the present, that time in his life was a walk in the park.

Kei quietly snorts at his then inexperience. After nearly a year of dancing around each other, he and Shōyō finally managed to get their shit together enough to become an official couple in the latter half of their third year of high school. It was a long time coming and most people who knew them saw it before they did. They were both a little terrified and more than a little awkward back then. Neither had ever been in a relationship before and stack that with being gay in a small town and you can understand why a teenage Kei would feel like he was attempting the impossible.

However, despite the circumstances and the fact it was Shōyō, of all people, they had managed. They had bravely faced the discrimination with the support of close friends and some family, graduating proudly hand-in-hand.

After that it was university where they attended the same school, intent on etching out a life for themselves- together.

In one sense it was perfect. It wasn’t that they never had problems- Kei continued to struggle with being expressive and Shōyō continued to be an annoying little shit. They made mistakes and they hurt each other. But they also overcame those obstacles, the process of a relationship being one that never stops growing.

Yet, that was the the difficulty. The growing. In order for two people to have a fulfilling and happy relationship, they have to continuously grow. Together.

University was easy. Four years of study and parties and living unafraid within the gay community they connected with. They strutted and showed off during that time, refusing to be intimidated by the disdain of others who were unaccepting of their status.

By the time they graduated things had changed within their country and same-sex marriage was granted legal status. They, among many, of their friends rushed for the license, finally finding the acceptance they’d been fighting for all these years.

It was a magical time, even if bittersweet now.

As time went on Kei completed a master’s and then Ph.D. and accepted an adjunct position from a prestigious university under the condition he would consistently publish. That was fine, it’s what he wanted anyway. During that time, Shōyō followed his dream, moving up the ranks to professional status as a volleyball player and one of the best in the country. They settled down and bought a home and lived their lives.

Sounds great, right? It should. It should have been perfect. It should have lasted.

But all good things come to an end, don’t they?

“You know I’m not going to fight you over the house, right? You deserve this.”

Kei glances over at Shōyō, barely recognizing him now. He looks the same- short and wild red hair. But he’s not the same. He’s not the carefree, impossibly happy, excitable person Kei once fell so hard for. He’s practically a stranger.

“I’m not worried about that,” Kei says, actually bored. He leans back against the headboard, eyes closed. He hears Shōyō sigh.

“Tetsurō says divorce is easier if the two parties can amicably divide their assets.”

Kei chuckles, eyes still closed and shaking his head. He opens them, avoiding looking in Shōyō’s direction and slowly climbing off the bed and letting the sheets fall in a messy, hanging heap off the bed.

“Kuroo can suck a dick,” he says then laughs full out until he’s wiping an eye. “I forgot,” he continues, still chuckling to himself, “he’s already done that. Yours to be exact.”

Shōyō sighs behind him and Kei has to fight off another round of sardonic hilarity. He actually has no idea if that’s occurred but it seems reasonable enough since his husband has been sleeping with Kuroo for the last six months.

It’s not like he’s sincerely angry about it. It’s just mostly his pride that smarts. He acknowledges that just as dating Shōyō was an eventuality when they were teens, it was also inevitable that it would all end.

Why? Because time is the death of all things.

No one fully understands how difficult it is to keep a relationship going. No amount of warnings or advice can substitute for experience and awareness.

He supposes he should have recognized that things were shifting between them when Shōyō stopped asking Kei to come to his games. It might have helped if Kei had not stopped going in the first place. But at the time he felt his justification for missing them were warranted, he had to publish after all. His career depended on it and that often meant long hours spent doing research and typing away in front of a computer screen.

It also might have helped if Kei still included Shōyō in his research, shared with him all the amazing things he learned and discovered. It also might have helped if Shōyō hadn’t lost interest in the things that interested Kei in the first place.

It might have helped if their separate lives had not ended up so...separate.

But that’s the thing. No one stays who they are at seventeen or at twenty-one or at thirty-four. Priorities shift, personalities grow and wane and if two people don’t talk about it, acknowledge it, then they grow apart. They become different people.

They become strangers who just happen to live together.

“I’m sorry, Kei.”

Kei pulls the shirt on over his head, straightening it out over the jeans he’d pulled back on before pausing. He turns to look at Shōyō whose brown eyes are shimmering, threatening to spill tears. Kei doesn’t feel anything when they do.

“So am I,” he replies, “but what is there left to do?” Kei picks up his glasses from the bedside table and slides them on, then he grabs his cigarettes and lighter, stuffing them into a back pocket.

Shōyō sniffs and watches quietly as Kei pulls a duffel from the closet and gathers a few things from their once shared room. When he needs to get into the bathroom he stops in front of his now ex-husband and looks down at him expectantly. Without word, Shōyō moves out of the way and walks toward the bed, sitting down tentatively next to the half-packed bag. Absently his fingers caress the blanket beneath him, a subconscious movement that is simultaneously fidgety and nostalgic.

Kei emerges from the bathroom holding his toothbrush and a few other shower supplies. His eyes catch the movement of Shōyō’s small hand but he looks away at once. Despite his indifference about the situation, he can’t help but feel a hollow sadness.

They’ve been together seventeen years.

And now they’re together no longer.

Kei finishes packing and hefts the duffel into his shoulder, turning toward the bedroom door. He heads to the kitchen through the living room, memories of the years they’d shared hung and precisely placed and suffocating.

He grabs his wallet, stuffing it in his back pocket then grabs his keys. He slides the house key off the ring and places it on the bare part of the island.

“Kei, seriously. You don’t have to go like this.”

Kei looks at Shōyō who's standing at the opposite end, hands shoved in his pockets and his face a mixture of so many emotions that Kei can’t pick them out before they change.

“I can’t stay, Shō.”

“We could...we could try...again.”

“You know there’s no point.”

Shōyō nods and covers his face with his hands briefly before dropping one and running the other through his hair, gripping a handful of bangs. His eyes are red and his face screws up as he trying to keep from crying.

“Will you-um-come back for the rest of it or do you want me to send it to you?”

Kei sighs and takes his glasses off to clean them with his shirt then places them back on his face. The finality of the situation is catching up to him and he kind of wants to throw up or scream.

“No, I won’t and you can do whatever you want with them. I don’t care.”

“But-“

“It’s fine, Shō.” Kei bites at his bottom lip and inhales deeply, holding it a moment before letting it slowly out. He refuses to cry right now. “Maybe we both need to start over.”

Shōyō nods his head and crosses his arms over his chest, holding himself tightly. Kei kind of envies him, at least Shōyō will have someone to hold him tonight.

“So this is it?” Shōyō asks.

Kei fades out for a moment, seventeen years passing in the blink of an eye.

Kei blinks and looks down at his hand, the gold in his ring blunted and no longer shining. With his right hand he grips his ring finger and twists, the ring popping off with a little effort. Gingerly he places the ring on the countertop, surprised to find he can feel so naked without it.

“Yeah,” he says.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment or Kudos. It’s encouraging.


End file.
